Blood On My Axe
by Sophia Is Amazing.xo
Summary: The Hunger Games in Johanna Mason's time in her point of view. *NOT MINE, FROM A GAME*
1. Intro

Hi. This story is originally from High School Hero (an app on any IDevice) from the user 'Gilly_Hicks'. I posted this here mainly for my friend who does not have that app and for anyone else who is interested in this kind of thing.


	2. Chapter 1

"Jojo! Momma wants to see you!" my little sister, Jenna, yells at me from down stairs.

I sit up from my bed and rub my eyes. It's THAT day already. It seem like last years reaping was just a few days ago.

I walk downstairs and into the kitchen, where my mother is making breakfast.

"You know what today is right?" my mother asks me, flipping an egg onto my plate.

"The day where the Capitol decides who they will kill."

He mother looks at me with a stern eye, "Johanna Elizabeth Mason! Do not talk like that."

"Why, because it's true?" I ask while playing with the egg yolk running from the cut I made.

My mother just looks at me. I know what she means. Ever since our old head Peacekeeper was "let go" and we got a new one, everyone has been walking on eggshells because people are being thrown in jail left and right for no apparent reason; just pulled out of their houses.

"Do you think I'll be chosen?" my brother ask me quietly, so our mother won't hear.

"Jeremiah, you're fourteen, your names in three times. There are plenty of people with their names in the drawing more times than yours is; you didn't take any tessera. Heck, I'm more likely to be chosen than you. My name is in," I pause counting the years, "five times."

"Don't say that Jojo, you won't be chosen, you didn't take a tessera either!" Jenna says looking like she's going to cry. She is nine, too young to be put in, but she worries about us. A lot.

I smile at her and reassure what she said, but truth be told, I gear myself up every year to be chosen. I don't care if my name's in one time or one hundred times; I don't ever want to be caught by surprise. I even work on some skills in the back yard with my dad. I consider myself deadly with an axe, but I don't tell people that.

"Johanna and Jeremiah, when you are done, go and get ready. They moved the Reaping up an hour earlier," my mom says with a sad look on her face.

There are thousands out children 12-18 in District 7, what are the chances that we will be chosen. Slim.


	3. Chapter 2

I stand in line, for those bossy, little puppets of the Capitol, to check me in. Honestly their new uniforms are ugly; like some deranged spaceman.

"Next!" one of the Peacekeepers calls to my left.

I walk over to him, "Johanna Mason, 16."

He looks a me and motions for me to give him my hand. Does he not believe me? Why would I lie to them? It would just get me killed.

I warily hold out my hand and let him grab it. He punctures my hand with a pin and squeezes a drop of blood onto a scan pad.

"Oww," I complain wiping my finger on his white sleeve. He scowls at me.

"Johanna Mason," a computer-like voice says. "Age: 16."

Believe me know, Mr. I-play-by-the-rules?

I walk over to the section where all the other girl my age are standing and find my friend, Essie.

Her long copper hair is twisted up into a bun on the top of her head. She smiles at me showing her missing tooth; the one she lost when she punched Gavelson, one of the old Peacekeepers last Reaping day.

"Hey Johanna, how are you doing?" she asks me.

I fake-smile, "Just awesome; going to watch two new people be chosen for slaughter."

She laughs at me and mimics the Capitol accent, "May the odds be in your favor, Johanna!"

"Why thank you, Essie. May the odds be in your favor as well." I say sarcastically.

She and I make fun every year, trying to keep this dreary day, light and fun.

"Hello, hello," a voice says slowly through the microphone. Oh how I've missed her Capitol accent. "In case you are new, I am Luna Lou Rivers, your chaperone from the great Capitol."

No one says a word.

"Well then, let's get on to the name drawings," she exclaims cheerfully. "Since we always do the ladies first, let's change it up and do the gentlemen first this year."

She walks over to a bowl filled high with small pieces of paper containing the names of the children of District 7. Luna swirls her arm in for a moment and plucks a name from the bottom of the clear containers.

"For the gentlemen, Timber Evans." Timber Evans? The name doesn't ring a bell.

A boy from the thirteen year old section walk up to the front and steps onto the stage. He's tall and skinny, and his hair is redder that I have ever seen. A reddish hair is very common among citizens of District 7. Even my own has it's own tinge of red mixed in with a dirty blonde.

"And now for our ladies," she continues her cheery tone.

Again she walk to a bowl full of names and pluck a piece of paper out.

He heels click against the concrete.

Click, click, click.

She steps up the the microphone and pops her hip to the side and tilts her head. She struggles with to open the paper because her nails, I swear, are five inches long.

"Johanna Mason." I knew it, someday they'd call me.

Essie looks over at me and pats me on the shoulder, "Good luck. I'll be rooting for you."

I step onto the walkway and head up to the stage.

"What a pretty one this one is," I hear on of the boys say as a pass by.

"It's such a shame," his friend chimes in.

I step onto the stage and stand next to Luna and look at her outfit. A purple jumpsuit with a snakeskin belt and a orange wig. She is really dressing to impress no one here.

"Your tributes for the 69th annual Hunger Games!" Luna Lou Rivers says with enthusiasm.

"Shake hands," she whispers to us.

I look at Timber and put my hand up for him to shake. He looks down at it and wipes his hand on his black pants before shaking mine. Sweaty hand, gross.

Luna grabs me by the shoulder and escorts up into the building behind her, Justice Building, I believe; I never pay attention.

She sits me down in front of a projector playing other districts reapings. Right now, the odds will never be in my favor, because the people who volenteered from 1, 2, and 4 are big, bad, and defiantly more prepared that I will ever be.


	4. Chapter 3

"Honey, it will be alright," my mother manages to get out between her sobs.

"Mom, I'll be fine. Don't worry; you need to take care of Jeremiah and Jenna."

More sobs. "But Johanna! You'll die!" she screams at me in a sobbing rage.

My father comes into holding room and pulls her out as she kicks and screams. "I love you, Jo! Good luck!" he says restraining my mother.

He understands this isn't a matter to cry over, especially because I haven't even died yet. Calm down mother, I'm your least favorite child. I can't imagine what she'd do if Jenna was chosen.

Jeremiah walks in and gives me a hug, "Johanna, try to win. I've seen you with grandad's axe, you could win...maybe."

I kiss him on the top of his head and send him back to my crazed mother. She needs to chill out, I'm going to die, deal with it mom.

-0=HG=0-

I sit in the coach, waiting for Luna Lou Rivers to step out of the "powder room" as she calls it. She has enough makeup on as it is; she's going to look like a monster if she puts on anymore. Maybe that's what she's going for...

Timber is sitting next to me crying his eyes out. He stops and looks at me for a moment, "I can't believe I was chosen."

Yeah. Well me either.

I look over at him and try to smile, "I can't believe your mother named you Timber. We live in the lumber district. She couldn't think of any other name. It's a bit cliché, don't you think?"

He looks at me with disbelief. Not the thing he was expecting me to say. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by Luna and some man entering the coach.

"Hello my charming children. This is Blight Tanner. He will be your mentor for the games."

I look at him. He's in his late twenties or early thirties, shaved bald and has a wicked mustache. Not exactly what I was expecting; he actually looks like he could have won his Games.

He looks at Timber and me, sizing us up. He smiles when he looks at me, maybe he thinks I could win.

"Tell me, Blight, how did you win?" I ask leaning back into my seat.

He smiles as the happy memories of the arena flood back into his mind, "I was eighteen, the arena was...different, and he other tributes were dumb. It was the right conditions."

"But what about the career districts?" Timber asks.

He laughs, "They are strong and have many skills, but most of them are dumber than dirt, especially the tributes from 1. You just better hope and pray that all the stars line up in your favor."

I can survive, in any conditions. I can out smart them. I'm clever. I'm a winner.


	5. Chapter 4

I step onto the train that is waiting for us at the station.

"You are in for a treat. All the luxuries of the Capitol are on this train. How exciting," Luna squeals as we enter.

"I every year hope when she says 'you're I'm for a treat' that she'll stop talking," Blight whispers to me.

I smile. I was thinking the exact same thing. Luna needs to slow down, we will be on the train with her for a day and a half, and I'm sure she'll be dead by the end of it if she doesn't shush up.

"I don't mind the mentoring, but I do mind her. If one of you wins, I will make you mentor next year," he continues after she leaves the train car.

Timber sighs, "Neither of us will win though. No offense, Johanna."

"Not with that thought of mind."

True. Very true.

"What was the arena like?" I ask sipping my water. I spit it back into the cup. It's disgusting, tastes like fish.

"It is different every year, but it's always frightening. My year it was a forest with a giant volcano in the middle that erupted everyday. People where stupid; I won by pushing someone into lava. Like I said, physical skills are only a part of what you need. The mental aspect is the most important, but they don't test you on that. It's a shame," Blight says sighing.

"What will our arena be like?" Timber asks a little frightened by Blight's story of his arena.

He looks at us and takes a swig of his drink. He doesn't really seem like a drunk, but it's too soon to tell.

"How am I supposed to know? It changes every year, last year was a forest, so don't expect that. Actually expect the worst," he say pouring himself another drink.

I'm glad it probably won't be a forest, even though I'm from the lumber district. I really hope it's not an arctic arena or one like Blight's was either.

"So how does this mentoring thing work?" Timber continues to prod at Blight.

"I tell you how to survive and you do what I say, if you're smart. Now what skills do you have?"

Timber sighs and bits his lip, "I can hide and set up traps."

Blight looks very unimpressed. I think he thinks that Timber will die in the blood bath, the fight over supplies at the cornucopia. As for me, I don't think he is sure about me. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"I don't really have many skills. I can hide," I respond not looking at him in the eyes.

He nods and looks out the window of the train car, "It's getting late, I think you two should go to bed."

It's still light outside. He wants to get rid of us.

Timber stands up and walks off to his car, not looking back. I stay in my chair; I'm not leaving until I'm ready.

"I believe I've underestimated you. You are much more clever than I thought," he says standing up. "They may want to watch out for you."


End file.
